


The Apron

by hulettwyo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:17:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hulettwyo/pseuds/hulettwyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story idea came about from a Facebook conversation that had to do with Spike in a French maid’s uniform.</p>
<p>*pauses while I wait for everyone to picture that then wipe the drool off their chins*  </p>
<p>What I ended up with is not even close to what I envisioned when I started writing it, but my muse apparently loves to chuck the GPS out the window and find its own way, so this story is basically smut with half a cup of plot and a teaspoon of angst.</p>
<p>Set about six months after a ‘Something Blue’ in which the aftermath of Willow’s ‘my will be done’ spell went a little differently.  In this alternate verse, Buffy and Spike’s love remained after Willow ended the spell and they’re together.  (Maybe someday I’ll write that story.)  </p>
<p>Hope you like!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apron

The Apron

“You missed a spot.”

Spike looked over his shoulder with a scowl then followed Buffy’s pointing finger to a small spray of popcorn crumbs that had somehow made their way into the space between the chair and the wall. He grumbled as he bent awkwardly over the chair and aimed the mouth of the Dustbuster at the mess.

Buffy sighed happily at the view… Spike’s nicely muscled back and beautiful bare butt on full display as he teetered precariously on his toes, the strings of the frilly apron that was tied around his waist swaying lightly over his rear end as he moved. 

She waited until he was just about to straighten up; the popcorn sucked up greedily by the tiny vacuum cleaner, then dipped into the bowl in her lap and crushed three puffs of popcorn in her hand. She lobbed the handful of pulverized popcorn at the chair across the room, smirking in satisfaction as the bits rolled and tumbled across the seat, falling neatly into the cracks between the cushion and the arms.

Spike stood up and turned to face her as he swept a critical eye over the living room, searching for something else to feed to the Dustbuster. Buffy’s eyes landed on his razor sharp cheekbones and traveled down his sculptured chest and abdomen before coming to rest on the tiny black apron that was doing a pitiful job of preserving his modesty… not that he really had any, considering how many times he’d answered the door completely naked just to hear Xander’s squeak of surprise. She could see the tip of Spike Junior peeking out from behind the delicate white lace that edged the apron and she shivered in anticipation as she held up her hand and pointed at the chair. “I think there’s some popcorn in that chair.”

Spike’s eyes settled on his tiny blonde Slayer who was sitting Indian style on the couch wearing nothing but a barely fastened robe, his mark, and a smile. He glanced over at the chair and smirked then looked back at Buffy. “That popcorn is fairly well-traveled, isn’t it, pet? Think it’s managed to cover most of this room.” He sauntered over to the chair and stood squarely in front of it then slowly bent over, giving Buffy another unobstructed view. “You just like lookin’ at my arse, don’t you?”

Buffy nodded and popped a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth, crunching them noisily as she said, “I like looking at all of you, Spike. In fact, it’s in the top ten list of my favorite things to do.”

Spike looked back over his shoulder. “Sure you don’t want to wear this getup and take over the hunt for the travelin’ popcorn then? It’d give me a chance to do one of the things near the top of my top ten list.”

Buffy shook her head with a grin. “Not a chance, mister. You lost the bet so you have to pay up, and you agreed to be my house-boy for the afternoon and do whatever I said, but if you win the next bet… and that’s a big if… then I’ll wear it if that’s what you pick for your prize.”

Spike scowled again as he looked back down at the chair and started to suck up bits of popcorn. “We were tied until that last vamp tripped and all but fell on your stake. Still say that one shouldn’t have counted.”

Buffy slipped the robe down over her shoulders far enough to bare most of her breasts, the edge of the fabric just covering her nipples as she smiled coyly over at the vampire… or rather at the vampire’s waggling rear end. “Don’t be a sore loser, Spike. It’s not like you’re not gonna get something out of this, too, you just have to pay me my winnings first.”

Spike stood slowly and turned to face Buffy, his hand clenching tightly on the handle of the Dustbuster as his eyes lit on the fresh display of bare skin. He swallowed hard then tore his eyes away and looked down at the scrap of cloth tied around his waist. “It’s not that I don’t mind dressin’ up for you, luv, or undressin’ for you, as the case may be… but I just don’t understand what this,” he motioned to the apron with one hand and held up the Dustbuster with the other, “does for you. I look ridiculous and if you wanted me to tidy up, all you had to do was ask.”

Buffy blushed slightly and looked down at the popcorn bowl. “I wasn’t sure it **would** do anything for me when Anya suggested it, but she said that this is one of her favorite… um… s..sex games… to play with Xander, so…”

Spike’s jaw clenched as he took a slow step toward the couch and growled quietly, “You’ve got me wearin’ somethin’ the whelp wears while he’s shaggin’ Demon Girl? Bloody hell, Slayer! Now I need brain bleach to remove that visual!”

Buffy’s eyes were wide when she looked up at the angry vampire who’d moved his hand to his back and had started fumbling with the knot in the apron strings. She shook her head and nearly shouted, “No! It’s new, I swear! Anya ordered it for me and I promise you’re the only one who’s worn it.” She dropped her head and tugged the robe back up over her shoulders as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Spike. We can stop this if you don’t like it. I just thought…” She trailed off and clutched the robe tightly closed with both hands.

Spike’s hand fell away from the apron strings and he turned off the Dustbuster, setting it on the coffee table as he passed it on his way to the couch. He sat down next to Buffy and reached for one of her hands, grasping it gently between his. “Thought what, pet?”

Buffy flicked her eyes up to Spike’s then back down to the popcorn bowl, her voice coming out in a quiet whisper that Spike had to strain to hear. “I thought you might be getting bored, Spike. You’ve been around forever and you’ve got way more experience than I do, and I just wanted to do something to keep you interested in me. Anya’s always saying that you have to keep the s..sex new and fresh or the male will go somewhere else to get it and that’s why she was so busy as a vengeance demon.”

Spike reached up and gently lifted her chin with his index finger then gave her a reassuring smile when her eyes met his. “Buffy, I love you, and even if all we ever do is regular old vanilla shaggin’, I’d still never get bored with you.”

Buffy’s voice was slightly watery when she said, “You wouldn’t?”

Spike shook his head, still wearing that reassuring smile. “No, pet, because it doesn’t matter **how** we do it, all that matters is we both enjoy it. And I think you’ve forgotten who you’re dealin’ with here. I’m not like those other wankers you’ve been with. I spent a hundred years with the same woman, pet. I don’t leave.” He leaned close and lightly brushed his lips across hers then whispered against them. “And if you want to explore and try out different things, I’m game, luv, but you don’t have to do anythin’ other than be **you** to keep me comin’ back for more.” He sat up and motioned toward the apron and Dustbuster. “Does this make you hot, pet?”

Buffy blushed fiercely then nodded tentatively. “I didn’t think it would, but having you pretend to be my servant and watching you clean up whatever I point at in that little apron just,” she shivered and reached out with a shaking hand, brushing her fingers lightly against the small scrap of cloth covering Spike’s crotch, “makes me want to do things.”

Spike groaned and his voice was suddenly raspy as he stammered, “Wh..what things?”

Buffy searched Spike’s face for any sign that he was freaking out over what she considered to be a fairly kinky situation, but all she saw was hungry lust etched into his beautiful features. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves then smiled coyly at him again as she let the robe slip just a bit. “You’ll have to play your part and finish paying up before you find that out.”

“Bit of role play then, yeah?” Spike nodded decisively. “I can do that.” He jumped to his feet and snatched the Dustbuster off the coffee table, switching it on as he moved toward the popcorn covered chair. He stopped in front of the chair and turned to face Buffy then bent in a deep bow, sweeping his free hand out to the side. “Your wish is my command, Miss Summers.” He turned back around and bent over the chair, displaying his backside at the best possible angle as he started vacuuming the popcorn out of the crevices.

Buffy watched the show, steadily getting warmer as Spike moved around the room vacuuming up the bits of popcorn she kept tossing around. Her robe slid off her body almost of its own accord until it ended up pooled around her waist, only held in place by the loosely knotted belt.

Spike, for his part, kept stealing glances at the couch as he chased down the popcorn, his tiny apron rising as more and more of Buffy’s skin was revealed. By the time the popcorn bowl was empty, the apron had been scrunched between his fully erect member and his belly for quite some time. He stepped up in front of the couch, leaning slightly to the side to deposit the now full Dustbuster on the coffee table, then dropped slowly to his knees. He placed his hands on the couch cushion on either side of Buffy’s knees then leaned down and feathered several kisses up her bare shin. His voice was smoky and full of promise as he whispered against her knee, “What would you like me to do now, Miss?”

Buffy gulped and shakily set the popcorn bowl aside. “You’ll do whatever I want?”

Spike nodded, licking lightly at the soft skin of her inner thigh as he pushed the robe out of the way with his nose. “Yes, of course, Miss. I am yours to command.”

A shiver went down Buffy’s spine, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the words he said or the rarely used, crisp, upper-crust accent he said them in. Probably a bit of both. Or it could be because she was nervous about what she wanted him to do, afraid he’d think she was depraved for wanting it, but… nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? And this was Spike, the man she loved and trusted with her life, so she took another deep, steadying breath and whispered, “I want you in my bed. Right now.”

Spike lifted his head away from her leg and said quietly, “Of course, Miss. How do you want me?” He sat back on his heels and placed his hands flat on his thighs.

Buffy’s eyes crawled over him and she had to take several breaths before she could rasp out, “On your back, hands above your head.”

Spike dipped his head then looked up at her shyly through his eyelashes. “May I ask a question, Miss?”

“Yes.”

“What do you plan to do with me?” Buffy searched his face again, wondering if he was having second thoughts about playing this game. Spike lifted his head slightly and gave her a small wink then whispered, “You can tell me, pet. Anything you want, you can tell me. I’m yours.”

Buffy nodded then closed her eyes, picturing him lying in the middle of their bed, his wrists secured to the headboard and his muscles straining as he pulled against his bonds. “I’m going to tie you up then use your body for my pleasure, and if you’re good, you’ll get some, too.”

Spike’s loud gasp caused Buffy to open her eyes and look at him. His pupils were blown wide and he’d started to pant lightly, his hands trembling where they rested on his thighs. He swallowed hard then said, “Of course, Miss. My body is yours to use as you see fit. Would you like me to carry you in?”

He rose gracefully to his feet then started to lean down, intending to scoop her off the couch, but she held up her hand. “No. Just go and do as I said. I need to get something first.”

Spike inclined his head with a quiet, “Yes, Miss,” then spun on his heel and started for the hall leading to their bedroom. 

Buffy watched him go, shivering again, then climbed off the couch and stood on shaky legs, muttering under her breath as she pulled her robe back up over her shoulders, “You can do this, Buffy. It’s Spike. He loves you and he’s not gonna think you’re a complete freak if you want to try dominating him in bed a little.” She smiled slightly as she remembered the look of raw lust on his face when she’d opened her eyes. “I think he might even like it.”

She moved to the hall closet and dug around in a large bag sitting on the floor, pulling out two items and holding them loosely in her hands. She’d talked about this with Anya, going over what she should do and how she should act, and thank goodness she had, or the butterflies currently swarming her stomach would have taken flight and she’d have been halfway across town before Spike even realized she was gone. It was a game, she reminded herself, just a game, and she could stop it whenever she felt like it, or if she thought Spike wasn’t enjoying himself. And that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To do something they’d both enjoy?

With that thought firmly planted in her mind, Buffy growled down the butterflies then took a firmer grip on the items in her hands and started down the hall. She paused outside the bedroom door and peeked in, smiling when she saw that Spike had followed her instructions. He was lying on their bed, his arms extended over his head with his hands clenched around the bars of the headboard. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply, the motion of his chest making his cock bob against his stomach. Buffy nodded to herself then pushed the door open and stepped into the room. “Keep your eyes closed.”

Spike startled slightly and his head turned toward her, but his eyes remained closed. “Yes, Miss. As you wish.”

God, if he kept talking to her like that, all deferential and servant-like, she was going to end up just jumping on him and riding him like a runaway horse. Which would be fun, but wouldn’t really be any different than what they usually did, and she wanted to try something different. She wanted to play.

She moved to the bed and set the items down on the comforter next to Spike, making sure they didn’t touch the bare skin of his side. She wanted them to be a surprise. She looked at the items, trying to decide which she should apply first. Spike was lying very still, not even breathing anymore as he listened intently, trying to figure out what she was up to. Buffy picked up the black silk eye mask and leaned over him, whispering, “Don’t move.”

He’d already been nearly motionless, but he immediately switched on that ability of his to go unnaturally still, like a statue carved out of flesh, showing absolutely no sign at all that he was a living being. Buffy slipped the eye mask over his riot of messy curls and laid it across his eyes, settling the elastic band comfortably on the back of his head. He shivered then went still again, a small gasp escaping his lips. Buffy bent down further, brushing a kiss across them, and Spike shivered again. She straightened up then ran her fingertips lightly down his chest, his skin flaring into goose bumps in their wake. “Are you cold?”

He shivered again then shook his head. “No, Miss.” 

Buffy nodded then picked up the next item, a set of padded handcuffs. She leaned over Spike again, reaching for his right wrist, then snapped one ring of the cuffs around it. Spike jumped as the metal clicked into place and Buffy looked down at him with concern. “Is this okay, Spike? I won’t use these if you don’t want me to.”

Spike swallowed thickly then nodded. “It’s fine, pet. Just startled me a bit, is all. Please continue.”

Buffy watched him for a few seconds, noting that he’d started breathing again, then she reached down and cupped his cheek in her palm. “If you want to stop, just say so, okay?”

Spike leaned his head into her palm, saying in his normal voice, “I’m fine, Buffy. Really,” then he wiggled the fingers on his left hand and switched to his upper-crust voice, “Better secure this one as well, Miss. Don’t want to inadvertently disobey your order to keep still.” Spike took a deep breath as Buffy slid the empty cuff behind a bar in the headboard, settling the connecting chain against it with a small clink, before clamping the cuff around his left wrist. 

He’d played games similar to this one with Drusilla, but aside from the one time as the restrained party, he’d always been the one doing the restraining. After his insane Sire had left him chained to the bed at the mercy of her pack of deranged minions for nearly a week, because something had caught her fancy before she could remember to let him free, she couldn’t be trusted to be the one in charge, so Spike had always been the one holding the keys.

Being restrained again was making him just a little nervous, flashbacks to his time in the Initiative and Rupert’s bathtub springing to mind, but Buffy’s gentle caresses and soft murmurs against the skin of his throat went a long way in helping him to tamp down the fear and let the lust take over.

Buffy nuzzled Spike’s neck and trailed her fingers lightly up and down one arm until the fear tightness of his muscles changed to anticipatory trembling, then she stood up and untied the belt of her robe, letting it slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor. She crawled up onto the bed and knelt beside Spike, speaking in the quiet, yet authoritative voice she’d practiced with Anya. “First, you’re going to use your mouth to bring me pleasure, and if you’re good,” she tapped one finger lightly on his cock, smiling when it twitched, “I’ll use this, and if you’re **very** good, I might let you come.” She almost choked as she said that last part, not being used to ‘talking dirty.’ Spike was the vocal one during sex, always narrating what was going on and how it was making him feel, and she could hardly believe she’d actually said that to him.

He seemed to like it, though, because he groaned and tightened his hands around the bars of the headboard, causing the metal to creak under the strain. He licked his lips and rasped, “If it please you, Miss, use me.” 

Bloody hell, he was nearly ready to burst and they’d barely done anything. It was the tone of her voice that was doing it. Her _‘you will do what I say because I own you’_ tone was pushing quite a few of his kink buttons, and, strangely, also making him feel cherished and loved.

He felt the bed shift as Buffy changed position then her breast brushed against his lips, the nipple already hard and pointed. He flicked his tongue against it then pulled it sharply into his mouth and sucked hard, smiling against her pliant flesh as she gasped loudly then tangled the fingers of her right hand into the curls on the top of his head, holding it in place.

He suckled and nipped at the offered breast until Buffy pulled it away and replaced it with the other one, pressing it tightly against his mouth. He lavished attention on that one as well until Buffy was panting harshly and gently rocking her hips in time with his sucking. Suddenly the breast was gone and Buffy was moving. She straddled his face, slotting her knees into the spaces between his head and arms, then the fingers still tangled in his hair tightened and pulled his head back. Buffy panted down at him, “Make it good,” then she lowered her dripping core directly to his mouth.

He speared his tongue into her, greedily lapping up her hot, flowing juices, then licked up to her swollen nub and swirled his tongue around it a few times before sucking it sharply into his mouth. He was good at this and he knew it. Buffy had told him quite a few times, usually in the breathy gasps of completion, that his mouth should be illegal it was so good, so he buckled down and started to put all of his considerable skills to use.

Buffy had let go of his hair a while ago, instead grasping the top rail of the headboard tightly in both hands as she rode his face. She was rocking her hips wildly and pressing herself as close to him as she could when she suddenly tensed. Her back arched into a bow and the wrought iron headboard squealed with a whine of tortured metal as she came undone. Spike kept working her, extending her orgasm for as long as he possibly could until she finally collapsed. She had enough presence of mind to push herself over sideways before she went completely boneless, and she fell to the bed beside Spike in a sprawl, one trembling leg draped over his chest.

Spike’s tongue snaked out, licking every part it could reach of his lips and chin. He hummed under his breath, savoring the taste even as he tried to ignore his painfully throbbing cock. He smacked his lips then said, his voice a bit raspy and hoarse, “Was that satisfactory, Miss?”

Buffy’s hand waved weakly in the air then landed with a muffled thump on the bed next to her sweat slicked body. “Oh, yeah. It was about five truckloads of ‘satisfactory.’ That whole not having to breathe thing comes in really handy.”

Spike chuckled quietly and shifted slightly before he asked, “Miss? Was I good enough to… uh…”

Buffy lifted her head just as Spike shifted slightly again, causing his drooling cock to bob against his stomach. It was flushed a dark red and there was a puddle on his stomach that was soaking into the fabric of the apron scrunched up below his belly button. “That looks like it hurts, Spike. Are you okay?”

Spike shifted again as Buffy sat up next to him, lifting her leg off his chest then settling onto her knees beside him. “Please, Miss. Please touch me.”

Buffy looked over the smorgasbord of vampire laid out before her. His pale, perfect skin over ridges of hard muscle and bone. He was an Adonis, a perfect male specimen, and he was hers, and she suddenly felt guilty. She knew that he enjoyed giving her pleasure nearly as much as she enjoyed receiving it, but… well… in the almost six months they’d been together, she’d never explored him. She’d never taken the time to find out what he liked or what made him feel good. And while Spike was an extremely considerate lover, always making sure he rocked her world at least four times before he sought his own pleasure, she’d never returned the favor. Yeah, she would hit his obvious hot spot once in a while, stroking him with her hand a few times as she guided him into her, but he’d never climaxed anywhere but buried deep inside her while she quivered and quaked and tried to gather up the scraps of her melted brain.

In her defense, it wasn’t like she had a lot of experience to fall back on. Spike was only the third man she’d ever been intimate with and the first two weren’t really anything to write home about. She hadn’t touched or even seen Angel’s penis because they’d done it under the covers in a practically pitch black room. And Parker? He was just a pitiful loser that hadn’t even been able to make her come once, much less four or five times the way Spike could and **did** nearly every time they made love. The only times he didn’t were when they had a quickie on patrol, with her bent over a headstone or pinned between him and the wall of a mausoleum, but even then he always made sure she finished first and he’d never once left her unsatisfied. Rubber legged, lightheaded, and panting, but definitely not unsatisfied.

And now here he was, laid out before her and **begging** her to touch him, and she suddenly didn’t want to play Mistress of the Manor with him anymore. She reached out and pushed lightly at his hip, prompting him to roll onto his side so she could reach the knot in the apron strings. She tried to untie it, but the knot was stuck fast, so she took the string in her hands and jerked, breaking it neatly in two before tugging the string out from under him and tossing the apron into the corner. 

When Spike rolled onto his back, he had his head turned toward her so that he’d be staring right at her if his eyes had been uncovered. He asked quietly, “Miss?”

She reached up and pushed the eye mask off his face, tossing it into the corner with the apron, then laid her finger lightly on his lips. “You don’t have to call me that, Spike. I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

Spike’s brow knit for a few seconds then it smoothed out and he nodded. “All right, pet.” He looked up at his bound hands. “If you’ll just release me, we can…”

Buffy cut him off, “Nope.”

He looked at her, his brow knitting again. “But… I thought you didn’t want to play…”

Buffy smiled. “Oh, I want to play, Spike, but not that game. I want to play with **you**. I’m gonna figure you out, see what makes you tick… and squirm… and scream.”

Spike gulped. “You’re gonna…”

“Play with my vampire.” She leaned down and swiped her tongue across his nipple then bit down lightly. Spike gasped, arching up off the bed a little, and Buffy smiled as she sat back up then laid her hand lightly on his cock. “And I’m gonna play all afternoon. You’re gonna be a puddle of vampire goo by the time I get done with you, Spike.”

Spike looked down at her hand on him then back up to her eyes and stammered, “Vampire g..goo?”

“Yeah.” She wrapped her hand around him then squeezed and his eyes rolled back in his head. Buffy waited until they’d focused on her again before she dipped her head a little shyly and said quietly, “I know I don’t have any experience at… uh… you know, but I want to learn about you, what you like and what makes you feel good, so if I’m doing it wrong or you want me to do something different, please tell me.”

Spike tried to speak then cleared his throat and tried again. “What brought this on, pet? I hope you don’t think I’m unhappy with what we do, ‘cause I’m not. And you don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to.”

“I do want to, and if there’s something you’d really like me to do to you, tell me so I can.”

Spike blinked. “Uh…”

Buffy grinned. “Is the list so long that you can’t pick a favorite?”

Spike’s expression morphed into embarrassment and he turned his head slightly away from her. “No, luv. I… um… don’t have a list.”

“You don’t?”

He closed his eyes and sighed, “No. You’re the first person I’ve been with that wanted to know what I like, and I’d love to tell you, but…”

Buffy suddenly got it. “But you don’t even know because nobody took the time to help you find out.”

Spike nodded with his eyes still closed. “Yeah, that’s ‘bout the size of it.”

Buffy firmed up her spine, squeezing him again as she said, “Well, today it’s gonna get bigger… or smaller… or something, but the size of **it** is gonna change,” then, without further ado, she bent and took him into her mouth.

Spike groaned loudly and fought to keep from thrusting up into the wet warmth surrounding him. He could tell that Buffy was new at this, but what she lacked in experience she more than made up for in enthusiasm, and watching her lips stretch around him as she sucked him in nearly undid him. After only a few minutes of attention he gasped, “Buffy! I’m gonna… you’d better move…” If anything, his warning only made her try harder to suck his brains out through the end of his cock because she redoubled her efforts, sucking in her cheeks on the upstroke, and he thrust up then exploded into her mouth with a howl.

She choked a little on the copious amount of fluid that was suddenly filling her mouth then reflexively swallowed until he’d stopped spurting. When he finally collapsed back to the bed, she swirled her tongue around him, causing him to twitch and groan, then she let him go with a wet pop. She looked up at his slack face then at his hands dangling loosely from the cuffs. “Spike? Are you okay?”

He was unconscious. Wow. He’d actually come so hard that he’d passed out. He’d done that for her close to a dozen times… and he was always wearing this smug, self-satisfied look when she finally came to… but this was the first time she’d done that for him and a blush of pride burst through her chest. She sat back on her feet and looked over her handiwork… one blissed out, unconscious vampire… check. She smiled. She’d only wanted to take the edge off, not knock him completely out. He’d been so hard and it had looked so painful and she wanted to take her time exploring him, but she didn’t want him to be in desperate need the whole time. Well… she didn’t want him to start out that way… she wanted to find out what it would take to build him up to that. Her smile widened just a little. “Wonder if I can knock him out again?”

She sat and watched him, her fingers idly stroking the soft, velvety skin of his sac as she planned her strategy and waited for him to wake up. Basically, she was going to start at the top and work her way down, mapping all the spots that made him gasp or groan or moan. And then when he was desperate for release, she’d uncuff him and make love to him in his favorite position. Well, what she hoped was his favorite position being that it was the one they used the most, only this time she’d do a lot more of the work instead of letting him do it all. Of course, she was usually all limp and noodly by the time they got that far and it was all she could do to remember her own name after Spike had worked his magic on her body, but not this time. This time she was going to rock **his** world and he’d be the limp and noodly one… well, most of him, anyway.

Spike shifted slightly and sighed happily as his eyes opened. Buffy leaned down a little until she was in his eye line then smiled. “Hey. Welcome back.”

He smiled and stretched, cat-like, with another happy sigh. “How long was I out, pet?”

“Not very long.” She moved her hand to his chest, brushing her fingertips over his right nipple. “Ready for more?”

He hummed low in his throat then looked up at his still bound hands. “Gonna let me loose now?”

“Nope.”

His brow furrowed as he looked up at her. “Why?”

“Because if I let you loose then you’ll start touching me and my mind will wander off into ecstasy-land like it always does and I’ll forget what I was trying to do. And once that happens this will end up being all about me again and I want this time to be about you. So no, your hands stay where they are.”

She knelt up then leaned down, catching his lips in a kiss that started out gentle but soon became heated. He whined softly when she broke away then his whine turned into a moan as her lips traveled along his jaw line to his ear, drawing the lobe into her mouth. She sucked lightly on it then bit down, gently at first, then harder when she felt the muscles in his arms move as he clenched his hands around the bars of the headboard. She mumbled against his neck as she nipped, “Hmmm… your ear is a hot spot. That’s one. Let’s see how many more we can find.”

She licked across his siring mark and he tensed with a gasp, so she bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave imprints of her teeth in his neck. That drew a long, pleasure-filled groan from deep in his chest and a sharp thrust of his hips. _‘And that’s two. Wonder how sensitive his mark is? Hmmm… have to come back to that later and find out.’_

She continued down his neck towards his chest, alternating nipping, licking, and kissing as she moved closer to his nipple. Swirling her tongue around the tight nub got her another moan and sucking it sharply into her mouth to bite down on it got her a gasped, “Christ!” from a writhing Spike. 

She’d had to move her hair out of the way a few times and she sat up, reaching toward the nightstand. She snagged the scrunchy lying on it then started sweeping her hair back into a pony tail. Spike’s eyes opened dreamily and he said quietly, “Don’t, please.”

She paused her movements and looked down at him. “Don’t what?”

“Put your hair up. Love feelin’ it brush across my skin.”

Buffy smiled. “Oh.” She pulled the half tightened scrunchy out of her hair then shook her head, her smile widening when she saw the look on Spike’s face. “Then that’s something to put on your list, I guess.” He licked his lips and started to speak then stopped. Buffy laid her hand on his stomach just above the tip of his once again hard cock and asked, “What? You can tell me if there’s something you want me to do.”

He glanced down at her hand then looked back up to her face, shaking his head. “It’s nothing, pet.”

“Spike, you can tell me.”

He looked down at her hand again, his eyes lingering just a little longer this time before he looked back up. “Just don’t want to… uh… freak you out or anything.”

Buffy suddenly got it. She lifted her hand from his stomach and ran her fingers through her hair. “Oh. You like my hair rubbing on your skin, so you want me to rub it,” her hand dropped from her hair to his cock, “here.”

He swallowed hard and breathed, “Yeah,” then hurried to continue, “but you don’t...”

Whatever else he’d been about to say was lost in the moan that issued from his throat as Buffy leaned down and brushed her hair over his cock. It twitched and she placed a quick kiss to the tip then looked up his body at his face as she continued to brush her tresses over his sensitive skin. “Like that?”

He nodded and groaned, “Harder, pet… more… please.”

She lifted him up and wrapped her hair loosely around his shaft then tightened her hand over it and started stroking. The friction was going to leave her hair a completely tangled mess by the time she was done, but the sounds Spike was making would make an extra round of conditioner in the shower way more than worth it. She turned her head as much as she could and looked at his face, that blush of pride blooming through her chest again at the pleasure radiating from his features. 

She turned back to her task and gently closed her mouth over the head, sucking lightly as she sped her strokes. Her free hand trailed across his chest until her fingertips found a nipple and she started pinching it in time with her sucking. Spike was breathing like he’d just sprinted up from LA and when she tightened her grip and sucked in her cheeks he came unglued, arching up with a scream that shook the window across the room in its frame.

Buffy swallowed until there was nothing left to swallow then let him go with a messy slurp and started slowly working to untangle her hair from his softening cock. She pulled the last few strands free and sat up, wiping her mouth. Spike was unconscious again. Buffy smiled. “I wonder how many times I can do that to him in one day before brain damage becomes an issue.”

She stood up at the side of the bed and stretched then padded across the hall into the bathroom. Spike was still out when she came back with her brush and a glass of water. She took a long drink then set the glass on the night stand and sat down next to him. She looked him over as she worked the brush through her tangled hair, mentally cataloguing all she’d learned so far while she waited for him to wake up again.

Her hair was smooth and tangle free and the glass of water was empty when he did, again stretching like a cat and making a satisfied purring sound deep in his chest. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times then smiled widely up at her. “Mmmm, pet. Can’t remember when I’ve had a more enjoyable afternoon.” He rattled the cuffs against the headboard. “You ready to let me loose, or are you plannin’ to play a bit more?”

Buffy smiled and trailed her fingers down his chest. “You think you can take any more playing?”

He nodded and threw her a leer that he shouldn’t have been able to manage, considering how noodly and relaxed he looked. “I can take anythin’ you can dish out, luv.”

“Good, because I want to go over the spots I found then see if I can find any new ones.”

Spike shivered in anticipation and clenched his hands around the bars of the headboard. “Have at it, pet.”

Buffy looked him over then leaned down and kissed him gently before nipping a trail to his earlobe. She bit down on it, just a little harder than the last time, and his hands clenched tightly enough to bend the metal of the headboard. Buffy looked up at it and smiled then moved down his neck to his siring mark. She licked at it then nipped lightly and Spike squirmed, a gasp escaping his lips, but when she bit down, hard enough to draw just a little blood, he howled, arching up off the bed.

Buffy sat up quickly. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Spike was panting when he nodded. “Yeah, you did, but it’s the good kind of pain, luv. The very best kind, as a matter of fact, ‘specially for a vampire.” Buffy reached out and wiped a small trickle of blood from his neck then held up her bloodied fingertip and Spike nodded again. “Bitin’ a vampire nearly anywhere during a shag, but ‘specially on his siring mark hard enough to draw blood, is enough to make him come, pet. Look.” He cut his eyes down towards his belly and Buffy’s eyes tracked down to what he was looking at. His cock was slowly deflating, having spent a considerable puddle of milky white fluid all over his stomach.

Buffy’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and she blushed furiously. “So… all I have to do is bite over your siring mark and you,” she waved at the puddle, “do that?”

Spike smiled warmly at his embarrassed Slayer. “No, pet. I wouldn’t… do that… if you just walked up and bit me out of the blue. Have to be aroused first, in the mood. But… uh… you bitin’ me would be a guaranteed way to **get** me in the mood… in case you were wonderin’.”

Buffy’s face was still quite red, but she smirked mischievously. “I thought you were pretty much **always** in the mood, Spike, considering how many pairs of my panties you’ve ruined.”

Spike snorted. “Pretty much am, luv, whenever you’re near. And even when you’re not, I still am, ‘cause I’m thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Buffy stood up from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with a damp hand towel and a face that had returned to its normal color. She cleaned the blood off Spike’s neck then cleaned off his belly before tossing the towel into the hamper. She sat back down on the bed and smiled down at him. “Okay, that’s three. Need one more before I can let you loose.”

Spike’s eyebrow quirked. “One more? You’re keepin’ track?”

Buffy nodded with a bit of a shy smile. “Yeah. You always make me… uh… you know… at least four times before you… um…” She dropped her eyes to her knees. “But if you’re getting tired or something, I can let you go.”

The rattling of the cuffs brought her eyes up to his face. His leering face. “Are you daft, woman? I’ll stay here and let you play as long as you like.”

Buffy’s face was starting to redden again. “But, um… how many times can you… um…”

“Vampire, pet. I can… um… as many times as you want me to. **All** vampires are multi-orgasmic, not just the females. Perk of bein’ undead, I suppose. We don’t have to use the loo and we don’t have to recuperate, no matter how many times we’ve… ummed.” He nodded toward his belly again and Buffy’s eyes followed his, widening as they fell upon his once again hard shaft, bobbing lightly against his abs. 

She drew in an astonished breath. “Wow. Already?”

Spike smirked. “You’re starkers and sittin’ right next to me, luv. That’s quite honestly a lot less than it takes. Just the **thought** of you starkers’ll make me hard. Not to mention that I can smell your delectable fragrance and still taste you on my tongue.” He licked his lips as his eyes raked her up and down. “Might need some blood after a bit to… uh… replenish my fluids, but I can keep goin’ as long as you want me to.”

Buffy sat for a few minutes and thought about that. Wow. Spike was the Energizer Vampire of pleasure – giving or receiving. He could keep going and going and going… A fact she could readily attest to because he’d spent one long night and most of the next morning finding out how many orgasms he could wring from her. And they’d all been mind quaking orgasms, too, not just the little aftershock kind. She’d lost count in the mid teens, and he’d only stopped when she’d become so sensitive that even the lightest touches were starting to be painful.

Her hand had drifted to his cock without her being aware of it, but his low groan brought her mind back to the present. She looked down; stroking him slowly, then looked up at his face. “Remember that one night about two months ago? After we’d taken out that nest of vampires down by the docks?”

Spike’s concentration wasn’t currently at its best because of what Buffy’s hand was doing, but he finally managed to pull that night up in his mind. He nodded, wearing that smug, self-satisfied look, and his words issued forth, riding on a pleasured moan, “Wore you out, I did. That’s quite a feat, you know, wearin’ out a Slayer. One of the best nights of my life.”

Buffy smiled. “One of mine, too, and I lost count, but…”

“Twenty-one, pet.”

Buffy laughed. “I should have known you’d know the exact number,” she gave him a few more strokes, “but what I was going to ask was if you remembered why we had to stop?”

He nodded. “Put your beautiful little quim through its paces and it got too sensitive to keep goin’.”

She stopped stroking and just let her hand rest on his rigid length. “Right, so… um… how long before you get too sensitive? I don’t want to hurt you, Spike.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know, pet. ‘S never been an issue, so I reckon we’ll just have to find out together.”

“You’ll tell me if anything hurts, right?”

“’Course I will, luv, if it’s the bad kind of hurtin’.” He leered again. “The good kind’ll just have me beggin’ for more.”

“Okay then.” She squeezed him lightly. “Think you can break my record?”

He groaned as she started stroking again. “I’ll bloody well try, pet.”

He did. And then she did. And then they slept for eighteen straight hours.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

What happened to the apron, you ask? Well, Buffy found it the first time. It was sitting on the kitchen counter next to her bag of college textbooks, the broken string wound through the handles of two large plastic jugs of orange juice. She didn’t go to class… for two days.

Spike found it next, tucked into the folds of his duster as it lay across the arm of the couch. The broken string was threaded through the pair of handcuffs and the hanger holes of eight blood bags… the good kind, too, A-Pos from the hospital. They both wore satisfied smiles three days later when Anya congratulated Buffy on the reddened rings of chafed skin around Spike’s wrists.

The apron is getting a little ragged these days, the lace around the edge long gone and the strings frayed down to barely there nubs, but they still use it as a signal when one of them wants to play. They both have an extensive list of favorites now – actually written down and stored in a safe place – and neither one of them has ever gotten even the least bit bored.


End file.
